**My Daughter Was Ashamed of Us and Didnt Invite Us to Her Wedding**
Today, I felt the need to pour my heart out. Our daughter was ashamed of us for being from the countryside. She didnt even invite us to her wedding
My husband and I have always lived simply, but with dignity. Our home, the vegetable patch, the cows, the daily worriesour entire life revolved around one goal: raising our only daughter to be a good person. For her, we would do anything. The best was always for Emily. New shoes? Of course. A coat so she wouldnt feel out of place among the city girls? Without question. We stretched every penny just so shed never go without. She grew up beautiful, bright, top of her class, dreaming of life in the city. And we only rejoicedour Emily would have a future unlike ours.
With help from a friend, my husband secured her a place at a prestigious university in London. Tuition-free. We were as proud as if it were our own achievement. We supported her however we couldfinancially, emotionally. Every visit home was a celebration. We hung on her stories like fairy tales: her office job, her wealthy boyfriendWilliam, son of a businessman. She glowed when she spoke of him. And we thought: *Please, let the wedding come soon.*
But years passed, and no proposal came. One day, my husband couldnt take it anymore. “Invite William hereat least let us meet him!” She hesitated, made excuses about work. Again and again. Our suspicions grew. Something wasnt right. So we decidedwed go to London ourselves. We found an old address in her letters, bought biscuits, dressed in our best, and set off.
The house was pure luxury. Stone, glass, a gated drive. A polite man greeted us and led us inside. The wealth was like something from a film. We stood frozen, unsure where to look, until we were ushered into the sitting room. And there it was. On the table, a large framed wedding photo. In white, holding a bouquetour Emily. My husband turned to stone. The floor seemed to vanish beneath me.
“Why didnt you come to the wedding, by the way?” William asked suddenly.
We exchanged glances. What could we say? That we never knew it happened? Then she appeared. Emily. Her face went pale, her lips trembled. I gestured for her to step outside. At first, she tried to dodge it, but finally, she confessed:
“I didnt invite you because youre from the countryside. I was embarrassed. I didnt want everyone to know my parents were simple village folk”
That word stabbed through me. A knife to the heart. *Embarrassed?* By *us*? After all wed given her? All wed sacrificed?
“And William?” I managed to ask, barely breathing. “Did he know?”
“Yes. He wanted you there. He even sent an invitation, but I told him youd refused”
And that was it. We were the shame she hid. She didnt even give us the chance to be there on her most important day. No warning, no explanationjust erased.
We left that same day. No tears, no shouting. Just emptiness. How do you move forward when your own flesh and blood turns away? How do you believe any of it mattered? That we didnt raise a stranger?
Since then, Emily hasnt called. And weve stayed silent toonot out of anger, but bitterness. Because what do you say to someone who betrayed you so easily?
